Old Wounds: (A Havenwood Falls Novella)

by Susan Burdorf

  She made her way past the shops that wrapped around three sides of the town square’s park. The area appeared to be vibrant and thriving. Everything smelled fresh and clean, the storm having added an edge of pine-scented air to the normal smells of coffee and fresh baked goods that captured her attention. She turned toward the smell of coffee, intending to purchase a cup, but stopped to admire the view of the street first.

  Nodding to a few early morning risers like herself, she was surprised when they smiled and waved back before moving on to their activities. It made her feel welcome. A woman, jogging by in a bright purple track suit, waved and smiled like the others, as if greeting an old friend. Sherry waved back, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

  As she wandered the streets, she marveled at how the brightly painted shops blanketed with freshly fallen snow from last night’s storm added to the Currier & Ives appeal of the town. After a short time, she found herself in front of the Havenwood Falls Garage and decided to check on the progress of repairs to her car.

  “Hey, Joshua,” she greeted the mechanic. “Any word on my baby?”

  Joshua turned, caught sight of her, and waved before walking toward her. He wiped his hands on a rag. Shaking her hand, he gestured for her to join him in his office.

  “I was just starting on your car, so no definite word yet, but I think part of the problem is some loose wiring. For sure you have a busted hose, which I have replaced. I’ll know more later today.”

  “Great,” Sherry said with a smile. She sent up a silent prayer to whatever gods looked out for cars that the damage to her bank account wouldn’t be too serious.

  “Sherry,” Joshua said, stopping her from leaving the shop, “I wonder if I might have a word with you?”

  “Sure,” said Sherry. “Is it about the car?”

  “No, it’s about our conversation last night.”

  “Oh.” Sherry wanted to say that she would not discuss Rusty, but she had a feeling Joshua needed to say something important to her, and her therapy training kicked in.

  Sitting back down in the bright red plastic chair, she faced him. This time it was Joshua who looked uncomfortable. She kept silent, waiting for him to open the conversation.

  “I may have overstepped my boundaries, and for that I apologize. Sometimes I cannot help but interfere. It’s my curse, Evelyn used to say.”

  Sherry smiled, waving a hand as if to say it was okay, but Joshua continued.

  “This town has its secrets, and it’s not my place to tell them, but I think you need to talk with Rusty. I think you need to know . . .”

  “Know what?” asked Sherry, her tone sharper than she’d intended. She’d managed not to think of the sexy park ranger for the last hour, and here Joshua was, dragging her back down that road again.

  “Just . . . talk to him.”

  And that was all the mechanic would say. He promised to call her as soon as he knew what was wrong with her car, and then he walked her to the door.

  As the door closed behind her, she shook her head. Joshua was an odd one. She had no intention of following his advice. Rusty had had his chance to explain himself before she left, and he’d chosen not to. She had nothing more to say to him.

  Walking back to the inn, distracted by her thoughts and not paying attention to where she was going, Sherry bumped into someone. Raising her eyes, an apology on her lips, she stared in shock.

  “Well, hello, stranger,” Brad said. He held her by the arms and gazed intently into her eyes, gauging her reaction.

  “Brad?” she said, recovering her voice.

  A truck passing by stopped quickly, before pulling up next to her. She heard the door open and close, but didn’t take her eyes off Brad to see who it was.

  “Sherry, is this man bothering you?” Rusty’s voice penetrated her shocked mind.

  “Mind your own business, stranger. This is my fiancée.” Brad gripped her arms tighter.

  “Sherry, is this true?” The hurt in Rusty’s voice cut into her like a knife.

  Glancing over at him, she hesitated then nodded. “Yes . . . I mean, no . . .”

  Brad glared triumphantly at Rusty and then stared at her in consternation.

  Rusty stared pointedly at Brad with his arms crossed and stepped closer to the pair.

  Both men stood there, glowering at each other. Sherry felt like the pickle in the game of pickle in the middle.

  “Is he or isn’t he your fiancé?” Rusty pressed her, not taking his eyes from Brad.

  “He was, but now he’s not,” Sherry said, ignoring Brad’s strangled cry of anger.

  “Yes, I am. I’ve come to ask you for your forgiveness,” Brad insisted. He hadn’t released her arms yet.

  “Let her go,” Rusty said softly, the threat of bodily harm implied in his tone of voice.

  Brad released her.

  Sherry stepped around both men, unable to stand the proprietary, testosterone-fueledglares that passed between them. She wasn’t sure which one was more dangerous, and she didn’t intend to find out.

  Brad, seeing her leave, made as if to follow, but she heard Rusty warning him to stay away.

  “Not sure who you are, cowboy,” Brad said through clenched teeth, “but you’d better back off. That’s my woman there. And I intend to take her home with me.”

  Before Sherry could protest his unjustifiable, territorial alpha attitude, Rusty moved toward Brad with clenched fists. His expression dark, Rusty said, “Don’t you think you should ask her what she wants?”

  Sherry reached out, her hand on Rusty’s arm, stilling his anger for the moment. He shot her a quick glance, then returned his expression to Brad. Sherry pulled her arm away, but not before Brad noticed it.

  Brad, awareness dawning in his eyes, darted a quick look between Sherry and Rusty and smirked. “I see. Sherry, is there something you need to tell me, sweetheart?”

  Sherry threw up her hands in annoyance. “Stop it, Brad. Stop it, Rusty. Both of you, just stop being children. I belong to no one, Brad.”

  Rusty moved toward Brad, every muscle tight with the effort of holding back from physical violence. Sherry reached out. Touching Rusty on the arm once more, she felt his muscles relax, and she pulled her hand away again. Rusty’s glare remained focused on Brad.

  With a disgusted sound, Sherry walked away from the two men. They paid her no attention, neither man reacting to her leaving.

  When she reached the gate to the inn, she turned and saw Brad and Rusty arguing. Rusty, facing her, locked eyes with her, and she was surprised to see longing and regret in them.

  She quickly turned away and walked up the stairs to the inn, closing the door firmly behind her.

  Two hours later, Brad showed up at the inn to take her out to dinner. Sherry wanted to decline, but she was starving and dinner at the inn wouldn’t be served for at least another hour. She knew Brad would just follow her anywhere she went, so against her better judgment, Sherry left with him. Throughout dinner, he kept trying to convince her he’d changed, that he wouldn’t cheat on her anymore, that he loved her.

  “Come on, baby,” he’d said, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. “You know I mean it. I love you. I truly do.”

  Sherry was disgusted by his attempts to woo her. He was clumsy, and all she kept thinking about was how Rusty had never lied to her, that his emotions were always out in the open. She knew he could be trusted.

  “Brad, it isn’t just the blonde, or even the cheating, that has me thinking it is time to end our engagement. You barely pay anything toward our bills, and I pay all your bills, too. I cannot keep doing this. We are too different. You lie, and think everything is okay if you say you’re sorry, but it’s not okay.”

  “All right, I get it, you’re hurt. But honey, what other choice do you have? I’m here, I’m what you need. You know this.”

  “No, Brad, it won’t work. I want you out of the house when I get back. I won’t do it anymore.”

  He stared at her with nar
rowed eyes. “It’s that ranger, isn’t it?”

  Sherry looked away, her blush revealing everything.

  “You slept with him, didn’t you? And you talk about me being easy,” he said bitterly.

  Sherry stared at him with cold eyes. “It’s over, Brad. I won’t discuss it with you any further. I’ll be home in three days. I want everything you own out of the house when I get back. And if you dare take anything of mine, I’ll have you in court so fast, your head will spin.”

  “He’ll never love you like I love you,” Brad spat out as he stood up.

  “I hope not,” Sherry muttered under her breath. She wasn’t even embarrassed by the temper tantrum Brad was causing as he stomped from the restaurant, promising revenge.

  “You okay, miss?” the waiter asked when he brought her the check.

  Sherry appreciated the waiter’s concern, but wanted to leave as quickly as possible. Stepping outside, she remembered too late that Brad had driven them to the restaurant, since her car was in the shop one more day.

  “Damn,” she said, fumbling in her purse for her phone. She wondered if they had Uber in this neck of the woods, but doubted it.

  “Need a ride?”

  Sherry’s head jerked up at the sound of Rusty’s voice.

  Was he following her? How had he known she was stranded?

  “I was passing by on my way home,” Rusty explained as he settled her in the truck, “and I saw you standing there, looking a little lost.”

  “Yes, well, Brad isn’t too happy right now. Stranding me is the least of what he would like to do to me.”

  Rusty chuckled, and suddenly Brad’s childish temper tantrum struck her as funny, too.

  The two of them were laughing loudly when they arrived back at the inn. Sherry, uncomfortable now that Rusty had turned off the engine, glanced toward the inn with some trepidation. What was the protocol here? Should she kiss him good night as a thank you for being her knight in shining armor, or should she shake his hand, or just get out of the truck with a thank you and not touch him at all?

  She wanted to touch him, though. That was the problem. She knew, instinctively, that if she offered to spend the night with him again, he wouldn’t say no, but she also knew that would be the worst thing she could do right now.

  She was too fragile emotionally, and another night with this man who haunted her dreams would drive her over the brink. So, without another thought, she opened the door and hopped down.

  “Thank you for rescuing me again,” she said before she closed the door and ran up the steps to go inside.

  Rusty, watching her go, muttered, “By the moon.” He put the truck in gear and headed home.

  Sherry, leaning against the door, listened to the fading sounds of his truck and sobbed.

  Chapter 17

  After leaving Sherry in the restaurant, Brad drove around until he found a bar. Its rustic interior wasn’t his usual type of place, but he needed something to slake his thirst, and this would fit the bill.

  The place was occupied by a handful of tables scattered about the dirty floor, at which were seated some couples and groups of drinkers. Three rough-looking characters in plaid shirts were bellied up to the bar, and several couples and a few rowdy men in matching bowling shirts were drinking and talking.

  The dark interior of the bar smelled of stale beer and sweat, staple odors for a place like this. Wrinkling his nose, Brad made his way toward the bartender. As he sat down, he gestured for the man’s attention, ignoring the slurred comments from three men who sat nearby. Ordering his drink, he stared at the large moose head that occupied the place of honor on the back wall. Several other heads were mounted in various positions around the room.

  “Where you from, mister?” asked a voice at his elbow.

  Brad thanked the bartender who’d brought his drink and tried to ignore the men who were now sitting on either side of him and the one standing behind him, pressing close enough he could smell the man’s cigarettes in their package.

  Smelling them made him hunger for one, but he took another sip of his drink instead.

  “What brings you here, mister?” asked one of the other men.

  “You too good to talk to us?” asked the third. There was a threat in his voice. Brad looked down the bar, but the bartender ignored his plight.

  “I’m just visiting your fine state,” he said as he took another sip. He figured about ten more sips, and he could slip on out of here.

  “Yeah, where you staying?”

  “A place nearby.”

  “You one of them?” asked the first one who’d spoken.

  “Them?” Brad asked, confused. He took another sip. Nine to go.

  “The strange ones,” said the second man. His breath was stale, and Brad tried hard not to gag. Another sip. Eight more to go.

  “Strange ones?” he asked, then cursed himself. He hated that he was encouraging them, but they seemed to want to talk, and talking was better than robbing him. He didn’t trust any of them as far as he could throw them. Another sip. Seven more to go.

  “Yeah, some of the folk around here ain’t quite right. You need to watch out. There are rumors.”

  Brad took another sip, then a second one. Five more to go.

  The men warmed up to their tale and told Brad stories, but not the normal small-town kind of gossip he expected. More like the kind you told children when you wanted them to behave, about wolves and other animals that were not just animals.

  “You should probably stay out of the woods,” the third one repeated for the fifth time, his voice slurring more now that his glass was empty.

  Brad gulped down the rest of the drink and thanked the men for their stories. He hurried from the bar.

  On the way back to his motel, Brad considered what those men had said. What if they weren’t just rumors? What if there really was something weird going on in that town? What if that ranger was part of it? Wolves, huh?

  Chapter 18

  Rusty, preparing for his nightly prowl, felt a need for speed tonight. He decided to do another perimeter run around the town at the end of the night, his fears for Sherry overcoming his common sense. He could call Sheriff Kasun and let him know he suspected something might happen with her ex-fiancé, but he selfishly wanted to be the one to watch out for her. And really, he had nothing concrete he could point to for the sheriff to get involved at this point.

  Roaming the mountainsides and trails around the town, he found nothing out of the ordinary. Nearing the back of the inn, he once again stayed in the shadows. His wolf form sensing no unusual scents or sounds, he finally turned away.

  As he roamed about on his patrol, Rusty caught a whiff of Brad’s odor. He stopped, and lifting his nose to the air, he turned, trying to discern where it came from and how long ago, but the smell was too faint, disappearing on the wind. While it unsettled him, he couldn’t go after the man simply for smelling bad, so he dismissed it.

  A little while later, Rusty reached his stash of clothes and transformed back into his natural shape. His nakedness highlighted silver by the moon, he dressed quickly and returned to his home where he went to bed, falling into a deep, exhausted sleep.

  Sherry rose the next morning with a new attitude. She ate in the small dining room of the inn and walked outside. Just as she reached the gate, Brad met her. He wore a huge grin on his face, and groaning, she began to turn back around, but he grabbed her arm.

  “How are you this morning, darling? Going anywhere special?”

  “No,” Sherry said, trying to shake off his grip. He didn’t remove his hand, but instead increased the pressure of his hold. “Brad, stop it. You’re hurting me.”

  As if on cue, Rusty drove up in his truck. Pulling over, he stepped in front of the two and motioned for Brad to let her go.

  Brad laughed. Pulling out his phone, he turned and confronted Rusty.

  “You might want to back off, ranger,” he said, waving his phone like some kind of flag, “or I just might have to
reveal your little secret.”

  Rusty looked at him with a wary expression while Sherry jumped to his defense.

  “What are you talking about? You’re the one with secrets!”

  “Am I? Why don’t you ask your lover here what he does at night?” Brad turned to Rusty with a smug look.

  “What do you mean?” Sherry exploded. Grabbing Brad’s arm, she spun him around to face her. “What are you up to? I told you already. It’s over. We’re over!”

  Brad leaned closer to her. His voice lowered, and his eyes stared deeply into hers. “Baby, I love you, can’t you see that?”

  “You love me, and every other woman you can get your . . . hands on.” Sherry glared back at him.

  “I know. I’m not perfect.” Brad looked humbled, ashamed even, as he begged her to reconsider her decision. “But I love you. I really do.”

  “Sometimes love is not enough, Brad.” Sherry said.

  “But it used to be all we needed.” He reached out and touched the side of her face. Encouraged when Sherry didn’t flinch or slap his hand away, he continued, “We are perfect for each other. We have plans,” he whispered.

  For just a moment, Sherry’s heart wavered at the mention of their plans and the thought of the life full of love she’d always wanted. She could see in his eyes that he thought his ploy was working, but she knew it was just that—a ploy. He could never give her that love, that life.

  “No,” said Sherry, her tone cold. “There isn’t room for me and all your secrets in our relationship.”

  “So it’s secrets you don’t like, is it?” Brad said, his voice hardening.

  “Yes,” Sherry agreed. She stepped away from him, closer to Rusty.